Cupid's Day
by Whatisthebigdeal100
Summary: With the upcoming dance thrown for the latest cherub's honour, it's hard not to tell a few fibs about how hideous that dress is or frankly, that idea is just "not that interesting as blah, blah, blah'. Of course, that means it's harder to stop the creature until Gloomsville gang confesses. Question is, can all of them do that, let alone in the nick of time...


_**Cupid's Day: Chapter 1**_

Perhaps it is because a school is a microcosm of the real world that lying has occurred, despite it being a learning institution for the future leaders of the country. Still, there is no reason for the creativity of students in redefining the boundaries of dishonesty.

Of course, as struggling adolescents, they can churn up a few excuses. Ranging from 'I don't want to hurt him/her/it' to 'She/he/it deserves it/errr… it.' All in the name of a 'beautiful friendship'.

And nobody can say that there is no art in lying really. Lying, in essence, is theory of mind in action. To fib successfully, the liar must be able to have an appropriate assessment of their own and the recipients' mental states, such as whether recipients are ignorant about the true state of affairs that the lie-tellers themselves have full knowledge of. Lie-tellers must then construct and produce false statements that differ from their true beliefs about the state of affairs. Further, the false statements must be carefully constructed such that they will not arouse suspicion in the recipient.

Yes, it takes a lot of effort to be a liar.

It may or may not take just as much effort to stop lying. Luckily, several alchemists had conjured up the perfect plan.

Obloquy.

* * *

Iris Stygian was not on the road.

She was not breaking bread with Bedouins in Oman, learning to surf with the pros at the Australian Gold Coast or even picking tea leaves with her farmer friends in Sri Lanka. The adventuress was however, going to die doing the most diabolical task in the history of beast folk.

Grating.

Endless grating.

In one spot.

The kitchen.

The Sisyphean task seemed absolutely endless; the little pile of moist orange shreds steadily accumulating, thanks to Iris' elbow grease, seemed to be mocking her. "Put your spine into it, wench..." It seemed to slyly whisper. Grate, grate, grate. Grating carrots was beginning to grate on her nerves. She somehow managed to continue the process despite random spasms.

'Prosperi-pity', a raw fish salad whose name is a pun on 'prosperity', was a complicated affair. There were carrots that required grating, peanuts that needed crushing, pomelo segments that begged peeling, plum sauce that demanded blending... the list for the traditional Gloomsvillian dish was as exhaustive as it was exhausting. The salad was also easily available at any leading supermarket— pre-grated, pre-sliced and pre-mixed. Yet ironically, Ruby was adamant about preparing everything from scratch. Oh no, the flavor would be compromised. Even if it was just a sample to see if they should put it on the catering menu. Much better to do it by hand, said the Luddite Domestic Goddess.

So here she was, slaving away amidst the fetid cooking odors in the cramped confines of the kitchen. Just her tinny little vegetable grater and her perpetual wrist action.

All for the Cupid's Day Dance.

She would have complained about being the kitchen camel instead of riding one in the Sahara Desert. She could have staged a rebellion. She should have mounted a coup.

Yet Iris did not.

Neither did the rest of the manor residents. All had seen enough of the human Student President and her bony Vice-President scurrying around like Alfred and Co. Even Len knew of the immense pressure placed on their shoulders. Many eminent people had graduated from the portals of Saturnine High. In return, the ex-Saturinians donated generously to the prestigious school.

However, the latest cherub on the block had exceeded their sums. Inamorata Paramour, the only archer who had stopped hordes of zombies; the monster kind and the business type. As such, the institution was indebted to Inamorata. The dance was the least they could do to honor her help in the past.

'The pressure's worst on Ruby and Skull Boy, though.' The cyclops thought to herself, shooting a glance at Ruby. What was a glance, became a prolonged session of gawking at her bestie.

Ruby had somehow managed to carry a gargantuan pile of hand-made Cupid's Day decorations on her redhead. She was still struggling to find a place to place the towering load. Still, Ruby continued humming a ditty from her eekPod and writing it down. While Frank and Len had agreed to perform for the school, Ruby knew that they needed a resident deejay. With 7152 songs on her device, she was conjuring up a playlist for the dance. It was easier said then done... especially when a particular tune came;

 _'I have a dream, I wished would come true_

 _That you're dead with me, and I'm dead for you...!'_

"AHHH! Stop it, stop it, stop it right now!" Frank moaned pitifully. His reaction was infinitely better than Len's though. The younger twin plopped his face right into an apple crumble, and the dessert's interior actually muffled the noise out. Why did Ruby recruit them into popular music selection?! Most were getting too old.

"I would perform that track number but I am rather eager with being in charge of emergencies…" Misery drawled a reply. The banshee had volunteered to take notes of the proceedings and give necessary emergency equipment. First-aid kits, fire extinguishers, stretchers and seismic scale indicators were at her disposal.

Though to be honest, as Misery shielded herself from a flying microphone with a medieval shield, Iris knew only one unlucky girl would benefit from it.

Rolling her eye actually allowed her to catch sight of Skull Boy and Scaredy Bat. They were just building some equipment. Iris had to say, with all the psychedelic LED screens and shimmering silver drums, Iris could already tell that the performance was going to be spectacular.

"Skull Boy, your equipment is simply the best. I am certain Inamorata will appreciate it," Scaredy had started his compliment strongly before letting out a meek, "if she allows me to say so herself..."

"Don't worry, Inamorata's a nice lady last I heard. In fact, I'm really hoping I'm related to her. Did you see that awesome shot of hers, where she launched a thousand arrows? Of course, due to her Demigod blood, there were mystically photons…"

"SHOT?! LAUNCHED?! ARROWS?! BLOOD?!"

"Sorry, poor choice of words…" Skull Boy's apology eventually crashed and burned, as Scaredy's eyes promptly rolled to the back of his small skull and the winged creature fainted.

Yup, this was going to be a huge celebration and Iris was going to be the life of the party if no one else had anything to say about it.

'Of course, it would help if I didn't have to stay here…'

"Pardon Iris?"

Turns out, her mouth worked faster than her brain.

'Ok, think fast...'

"Er..."

Well, at least Misery found the meditation chant created by Skull Boy to be refreshing. Like a jug of rock.

Only then did she find Doom Kitty, armed with a loaf of bread, aiming at the potato salad until the feline charged at the bowl. That was Iris' signal.

"Oh no, bad Doom Kitty, better stop grating to... stop Doom Kitty with chopsticks, I guess..."

She had just grabbed the nearest utensils that had no resemblance to a grater. Ruby had finally found a spot to place all of her decorations before remarking,

"Well maybe..."

Too late as Iris stopped in mid-grate. The cyclops fled out of the kitchen like a bat out of hell. (Bat: 'bian fu' in Mandarin, a pun on the word 'wealth'). Soon, Ruby heard the musical strokes of chopsticks against baguette.

The perky goth giggled before sighing in content. They may be running around like headless chickens but at least they were in the same coop.

Though, it would be nice if she was within the proximity of a particular rooster...

Skeleton, rather.

As if to grant her wish, Skull Boy had left Scaredy in Frank and Len's care, the brothers eager to escape 'Let it Burn'. While Frank and Len dragged the comatose mammal out, Misery shuffled out of the room, mumbling something about retrieving smelling salts for fainting cases at the dance. Soon, Skull Boy came in and greeted her.

"Hey Ruby, sorry to disturb you but I have something important to tell you in private…"

'Somebody up there really likes me!' Ruby inwardly squealed, begging that Skull Boy really was asking her out after what seemed like an eternity.

True, they always hung out at dances but only as members of the student council. Even then, contact was professional and more often than not, they had to deal with a hooligan rather than their relationship.

And she really wanted to talk about their relationship.

No bones about it, she and Skull Boy had an awkward beginning. The typical girl-meets-boy-and-boy-runs-away-from-girl. There were still some things about his personality that aggravated her, but those quirks were infinitesimal in comparison to his strengths. He was an admirable role model to her, a strong advocate to her and an invaluable support to her.

They had been eating dinner together alone and attending plays together. On some occasions when the night got away from them and Ruby was dead asleep, Skull Boy would carry her bridal-style to her room. (Though the way Doom made an entire Yelptube video out of it was not the best way to learn that little fact). While it all seemed like a natural progression in their friendship, Ruby knew that something profound was beginning to shift between them. In many ways the two acted and functioned as a couple without the actual commitment.

Ruby just wished to know if he felt the same way.

Too bad that as she was appealing to the deity above her, Skull Boy had nearly finished talking.

"I'm sorry Skull Boy but may you please repeat for me?"

"Can't blame you, it's a miracle that we actually got a call from Sociétè Historiqueek."

Ruby would have sighed in exasperation of not having Skull Boy as her date. Until her brain processed the shocking last two words. Ruby snapped out of her lovestruck reverie and her bad slouching posture,

"Isn't that the organization which prevented us from renovating the ballroom we picked for the dance?"

"Yup, they called us for a meeting to reach a kind of compromise after you sent them those cookies. Nice work, milady."

Oh glum, that wink…

"True but milord is doing the setup for the entire places… what time do we have to meet them?" Ruby blushed, trying to change the subject.

"At around 7 bells. We have a lot of time so we can stay at home…"

A crash. A crunch of baguette. A cat screeching in fury. A claw displayed.

"AHHH! ROGUE DOOM KITTY!"

Recognizing that the situation was about to degenerate into something very ugly very quickly, Skull Boy abruptly surged to his feet. "Oh but since the flying coffin is broken after Misery's morning drive, we better walk there. What a lot of sweat we will build up. Or at least you." He made desperate grab for the door knob and dashed from the kitchen. Somehow, Skull Boy ignored the newly repaired vehicle, a hovering Squig, the fishmonger truck and the trolley with several passengers alighting.

Ruby jerked an accusing glower at his retreating back, but was of like mind herself. She was out of her chair with a cry of, "Wait for me Skulls!" as she beat a hasty retreat behind him.

* * *

There was a homeless man in the middle of the street, weaving his way through the traffic. They could only assume that he was homeless as his actions and clothes were rather bizarre. He held a brown paper bag and he would occasionally put it to his mouth to take a drink from the bottle within. The other hand was being used to carry a box that was great for thumping the bonnets of the honking cars. All the while he let loose a string of swear words and vile curses. Not just your ordinary ones either. The guy was threatening motorists that the milk would curdle in their fridges, their food would turn to sawdust and that he would make them infertile for eternity. He was like a one man comedy show with the outrageousness of his performance.

His strange appearance looked almost made up by the most deranged brain in the universe. Hair wizened and fossilized, the sad eyes of a basset hound and a distinctive beard that was bushy and spittle flecked. To exacerbate matters, he was wearing musty clothes, evident by the reaction of the people he passed. As he walked with a weary, sad air, their noses crinkled in disgust but it was when he suddenly exploded in a burst of rage they peeled away from his repulsive presence. The most horrible fact?

He was making a beeline towards the manor.

Misery squealed until the glass cracked before dashing towards the iron gates when she caught sight of him. The banshee ignored the craters created as she grabbed a feather from a perching crow, **(AKA: Poe)** and dunked it into someone's inkwell **(AKA: Poe's inkwell)**. While the bird squawked indignantly, Misery paid the man with another glass of milk and snatched the box away from him. He voiced his complaint in a sharp and educated accent,

"I beg your pardon, how very rude. It is only because you have given me my desired sustenance that I shall let you off the hook."

Misery slammed the gates in his face, eagerly running her hands over her delivered item.

"Finally, Aunt Mildew's chest. I really wanted you, and that's the truth…"

Pleased, the chest glowed a shimmering emerald green. Yes, finally… though it would be wise to check on the others.

* * *

"I think it's safe to say we'll never do that again." Ruby's chest rose and fell in an irregular fashion due to the totally unnecessary workout session she had just received. She brushed a strand of hair, wet from sweat to rest behind her beetroot ear. The corner of her eye twitched lifelessly at the reminder that she had made getting in shape for her final year of high school to be a 'must achieve' goal.

"Really? I found it enjoyable…" Skull Boy tried not to snicker at Ruby's exhausted frame, just providing her a sip of mineral water from the nearby vending machine. True enough, the skeleton had enjoyed their 'little stroll of 50km in one hour'. He had even managed to greet everyone they bumped into as they sprinted to the posh hotel, Dolorous.

Even the exterior evoked a sense of stylish sophistication that went beyond the manicured walkways and elegant statues. Darkened windows with their trimmings of gold and silver prevented a passer-by from looking in but once inside, the visitor was privy to the finest in Victorian furnishing. With staff decked in the typical black and white service clothes, one would not expect anything less then being waited on hand and foot.

It took some time getting their passes and whatnot but eventually, Ruby found herself squealing,

"This is amazing!"

She pushed through the door and ran out into the middle of the floor, gazing up at the vaulted ceiling and the columns that surrounded the room. Skull Boy smiled to himself, just as eager to unveil his plans for renovating the place.

"Actually, this isn't all that impressive as ballrooms go," Skull Boy pointed out, closing the door behind them and coming out into the room. "It was last refurnished in 1973 and the decor is definitely dated by now. You should see my blueprints, I believe that I am related to a long line of— what are you doing?"

She was lying on the floor, her arms and legs were stretched out wide like she was making a snow angel on the floor. Skull Boy could not help but regard Ruby with amusement.

"I wanted to feel the smooth marble floor and see the details of the ceiling all at once. I'm truly impressed with your choice, Skulls!" She told him, sitting up and leaning back on her elbows as she smiled at him with a look of pure admiration.

"Well, guess I better keep the marble as a descendant of architects, version 2.0 considering last Yam Ween." He chuckled and pointed at his art.

Ruby's eyes widened as she leaned over to better inspect the complex, meticulously drawn prints and the slew of instructions and mathematical equations written down their margins. This was an idle hobby he picked up due to re-diving into a gene pool?

"Sure, if I thought I was related to Sir Isaac Newton, I can finally get a decent grade for Physics." Ruby giggled.

"I did offer to tutor you." He mumbled, glancing away nervously.

"Nah, you're just as busy as I am. I should know because we have the exact same schedule. If not, I would have immediately helped you with Janer Eye."

"Oh come on, I misspelt the title, so what?"

"You said the man she loved is _a rock clown..."_

"Well, his name's weird."

There was no time to tease each other further though as the Dragon Lady made her grand entrance.

Literally. Her white cheongsam and grey flawless coiffure blended in nicely with the smoke she created. The woman was obviously an empress dowager who ruled with an iron claw, white pumps screaming her bravery, especially in dealing with grates in the street. Then again, the leathery golden wings in mint condition could be her weapon.

"Ms. Gloom," The woman curtly greeted, offering a hand which Ruby took despite it being clammy (and a little bit sharp). The martinet gave a single, hard shake before dropping Ruby's hand like a hot coal. "I am Madame Valha from the Sociétè Historiqueek."

Skull Boy took a deep breath and took the folder with the reports and his own notes out from the duffel bag he had been lugging around. Now was the time to do things right.

"I understand that the Sociétè Historiqueek has some concerns that we'd like to address," Skull Boy said, opening the brown folder in his hands.

"Yes, we do," The woman said. "Are you aware that this is classified as a historical site by the Gloomsvillian government?"

"Yes, of course-"

"And that, as such it is protected from defamation and destruction by the Gloomsville government-"

Skull Boy crossed his arms. "We're well aware, now if you'll just let me-"

"I'm not going to have some philistine barge in and destroy pieces of our history-"

"This ballroom was built in the ninteen-seventies," Skull Boy snapped. His temper was getting away from him, but he couldn't help it. "Unless there was a great Gloomsvillian disco that I am not aware of-"

"If I can make a suggestion?" Ruby piped up, cutting Skull Boy off. All of them turned to look at her. She blushed but stood up a little taller. "It's nearly supper time. I think if we moved our meeting to the dining room, after a short break, we might have better success at coming to an agreement."

Madam Valha frowned, looked around at everyone, then nodded. "Good idea." She said as the reptile slithered to the restaurant.

The moment Valha had her scaly back turned, Ruby grabbed Skull Boy's elbow. "Come over here," Ruby said in a low voice, dragging him off to the side of the room. There were a number of alcoves with padded benches lining the room, and parking Skull Boy in one, she sat on his right side.

"What are you doing?" Skull Boy asked in a whisper, glancing at the door swinging shut.

"You're getting flustered by her," Ruby said simply.

"She keeps interrupting me."

"Yes. She's a bitch… I mean witch."

Skull Boy gave a startled laugh at Ruby's attempt to cover up her blunt comment.

"Here's what we're going to do – we're going to take a minute – each of us will give our own opinions in sequence. I will go first and then you deliver the killer blow. Find the words now, instead of when that imb... I mean, impressive lady is talking at you."

Skull Boy closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had a million things he wanted to say to that woman, but none of them seemed to come out right when he was in front of her. He thought for a moment, collecting his thoughts, before he looked back at Ruby. Giving him one more reassuring grin, she started her line of argument.

"I would like to say that I appreciate the work that the historical society does. Some of the greatest monuments of our country would not be here today if not for the work that you do."

Skull Boy could not help but beam with pride. She really was a national debater.

"We respect the integrity of this building and are willing to work closely with the historical society to see that it remains the great landmark that it is."

When Ruby gestured encouragingly for Skull Boy to finish it, the skeleton cleared his throat, drank a nearby pitcher of water, and practiced his scales as if preparing for his opera debut. He finally snapped his fingers for the ceiling fans to create the special wind effect, making his emerald jacket billow in the wind as his crisp voice filled the room,

"Our plans for renovating the ballroom are in no way intended to destroy any part of this landmark. It is merely a desire to update it to the standard of the day. If you look at the records, the ballroom was renovated in the mid-seventies to reflect the tastes of the day, but our plans are actually attempting to restore some of the feel of the old building. We are planning on working closely with the historical society to ensure that nothing of historical value is destroyed or damaged in the renovation process. The past is in the past."

Skull Boy stopped, blinking. He had just given a speech, though he hadn't intended to, only wanting to convey what needed to be said. He looked away from Ruby's gobsmacked expression. "I actually wrote all this up in a report," He said to the wall. Ruby shook her head furiously before giving him a mock applause.

"That was perfect. Now, when we go back in there, we will look at each other and say that again to one another. Not to Madame Bi... Bewildering, okay?"

She stood, taking Skull Boy's bony hand to help him stand. He squared his shoulders a little and something akin to affection flickered in Ruby's eyes, replacing the concern, as Skull Boy stood up to his full height. "I am ready."

Somehow, the skeleton had conjured up two army helmets for him and the giggling Ruby. With the gravitas of soldiers preparing for war, they charged out of the room.

* * *

Iris continued to pace back and forth in front of Doom Kitty's door. This had been going on for—she checked her watch—two minutes and thirty-seven seconds.

She took a deep breath and stopped, finding herself in a staring contest with the door. For once, Iris was losing.

Two minutes and thirty-nine seconds.

With a huff, she stopped her pacing and determinedly brought her white-knuckled fist up to knock mightily on Doom's door.

Well, that was the plan, but they came out as two dainty raps for fear of knocking it down like last time. Then, Iris quickly spun around on her roller skates and tried to get back into her room.

Sadly, she was not fast enough because she heard the door open up behind her and a shrill but short violin chord.

Her shoulders hunched over in a dramatic cringe before she whirled around to meet Doom's confused but furious glare. "Hey," She said weakly, averting her eye.

Doom shaped her tail into a question mark, though it was quivering with suppressed fury.

"Well, you don't really have a doorbell, so what I did is more like knock-knock-ditch…" Iris coughed awkwardly and wow, she really wished she had a better brain-to-mouth filter.

"Look here, it's just bad luck, like Misery's. Yes, I know it's the only thing that can ever match yarnie's standards but I am your friend and can help you recover from going on another rebound…"

At that, Doom's heart softened to her fur standard. Iris really did see to be telling the truth. And she knew the adventuress had been the one who had granted her the warm, crunchy bread from Paris.

Doom nonchalantly shrugged her slender shoulders, head-butting the earnest Iris who tried not to show her crossed fingers.

* * *

Her spindly, arthritic legs started twitching rapidly, like an old spider. Yet, the creature was starting to jostle her confines with certain arcane words from a spell the sorceress did not even realise she had chanted.

 _IRIS..._


End file.
